


Hall Pass

by Lunarrua



Category: One Direction (Band), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Emotional Confusion, Light Bondage, M/M, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarrua/pseuds/Lunarrua
Summary: When Niall feels the back of his knees hit the bed, Jamie presses a shove into Niall’s chest and he bounces down onto the mattress. He flays a hand out to steady himself and finds himself clutching Shawn’s thigh.“Hi!” Shawn smiles brightly at him, shifting to sit a little closer. He puts a hand on the small of Niall’s back, rubs small circles.“Hi Shawn,” Niall responds weakly.And then he feels Jamie’s fingers raking through his hair, just as Shawn’s are trailing up his spine, and his own fingers tighten into fists because is this actually happening?!





	Hall Pass

**Author's Note:**

> These are all nice boys and I'm sorry.

By the time Niall reaches his bedroom door, having searched through all of the downstairs rooms for his recently disappeared guests, he has a pretty good idea what’s going to happen. The certainty of it doesn’t do much for the nervous fluttering inside his belly or the numb sense of disbelief he’s feeling as he pushes the door open.

They’re there - Jamie and Shawn - sitting side-by-side on his wide, neatly-made bed. Both are bare-chested, their shirts discarded onto the floor. Both faces turned towards him in the soft, dimmed lamp-light - Jamie’s an unblinking steady gaze, Shawn’s a blushing, bright smile.

“See, told you he’d find us,” Shawn grins at Niall, but it seems the words are addressed to Jamie, who smirks just a little in response.

“Uh…” is all Niall can manage to respond with. “What are … what … uh …”

Niall notices then that Jamie’s holding a leather belt in his fist, twisting it round his fingers tips.

And holy motherfucking Cristiano Ronaldo, what the fuckering fuck …

Niall takes a shuddering breath and has to actually shut his eyes for a second.

 

Today had started out so easy … watching the rugby with a couple of his lads, early beers, having a laugh. And then Ireland fucking WON! Ireland actually beat the All Blacks for the first time ever on home soil and Jamie had grabbed Niall oh-so roughly to celebrate, rammed him in into this viciously tight hug against his chest. Niall was left reeling afterwards. And Mully raised an eyebrow at him behind Jamie’s back and make his excuses and left them alone.

Jamie, all excited by the win, didn’t even notice, kept dancing around the living room, long arms aloft, laughing, said something about …. changing careers… that was it. That maybe he’d make it as a musician after all, one day... Because the rugby win was a sign that maybe your long lost dreams could come true. Maybe, maybe …

And Niall - ahaha! - said something stupid like, people would be very disappointed if Jamie stopped tying people up on screen. So he shouldn’t stop doing that. (Taking his clothes off in front of cameras, also, Niall hadn’t said. He’d managed to swallow that back.)

And Jamie had laughed too, rolled his eyes, collapsed back onto the sofa beside Niall. The way he’d sat, bending his knee to tuck his foot into his crotch - half-lotus Niall remembers from his failed attempts at yoga - it brought Jamie very close. His thigh lay lightly on top of Niall’s. He could feel the warmth of Jamie’s body radiating into his. He could smell his woodsy-fresh deodorant.

Niall had been a bit distracted and it took a moment for him to catch up on what Jamie was saying then. He was nattering away in his soft nordy accent, leaning into Niall, telling him how he’s instructed his agent to shred any more scripts that involved him tying up women and/or murdering them, because there’s type-casting and then there’s the feeling that people are seeing some dark essence of his soul that he doesn’t even exist actually. Because honestly? He very much respects women and wouldn’t ever like to serial-kill them or tie them up for his personal gratification or …

And Niall - ahahaha! - said something like, what about men though? For a change? If they were up for it? Maybe there’s something to be said for tying a man up for your personal gratification if the man would sorta be into that and, and, after all open-mindedness is a good thing, and, and, don’t knock it till you try it … And then Niall realised what he was saying and took a too-huge gulp of beer and ended up spluttering and coughing. By the time he’d re-gained composure, he saw that Jamie was sitting quite still and staring at him with a disconcertingly thoughtful expression on his face.

Niall only then realised that his hand had somehow come to rest on Jamie’s knee during all that. 

And then. AND THEN!!! As if things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Jamie had quietly said, “ I … Niall … I love my wife …”

And Niall - ahahahahaha!!! - Niall laughed and pulled away and slapped his own thigh so hard it is still stinging five hours later, and managed to say something like _of course, of course you do, she’s amazing! What on earth does she see in you, mate?! How’d you pull the wool over her eyes there, pal?! Ahaha! We should eat now though, yeah? We should grab a bite somewhere. Need the soakage, what do you say? I’ll see who’s up for it._

Niall fell over his feet to get to his phone and his shaking fingers texted wild invitations to anyone he could think of while Jamie muttered something about needing to show his face at home. And Niall, his face on fire, didn’t even care anymore. He just wanted to get out somewhere with noise and other people and distractions. So his stomach flipped when the first person to text back was exactly who he needed to see. And next thing, he was over-tipping a taxi driver in front of a restaurant, grinning bashfully back at Shawn’s delighted laughter when he realised Niall was half-sozzled.

 

Shawn. Blessed, angelic, sweet-faced Shawn. The best hunk of Canadian innocence to ever slide into his DMs. His uncomplicated, sweet sincerity was everything Niall needed just then, so Niall just sort of gave up around him, let him buy him dinner, laugh at his trilby. Niall drank all the water and coffee Shawn put in front of him, posed for selfies with him, tried to hide his still overheated cheeks under the brim of his hat. Shawn’s open smile kept him from thinking too much. Almost. He was almost able to stop thinking about the stupid things he blurts out sometimes. The stupid way he sometimes reads into things with someone else, sees things that obviously aren’t there. 

Shawn’s eyes had a new giddy sparkle to them the whole time. Like they were in on a secret. Which, actually, they are. Niall was reminded of that by the time they’d finished eating, and even though he’d definitely sobered up by then, he felt a flare of dizzying intoxication when Shawn put his broad hand on Niall’s thigh under the table and, his lips whispering hot into Niall’s ear, asked if he could come home with him.

 

So, the day might have been salvageable at that point. The flare that lit up in Shawn’s eyes when Niall nodded his assent seemed like it might just provide the distraction Niall was yearning for. He seemed all set. Shawn’s youthful taste for new experiences would be the balm to Niall’s troubled soul, the amnestic to this afternoon’s shame, were it not for the fact that literally two minutes after they’d got home, just while Niall was walking around to light some candles and switch on the fire, the doorbell went and suddenly Jamie was back, his tall, broad form filling the front doorway. 

His face was in shadows, unreadable.

And Niall was too shocked to do much more than swing the door wide, gesture him towards the living room.

His heart started to pound and he’d heard himself say, with a ringing cheeriness that set his own teeth on edge, “Right, lads, beers?”

And he’d literally tripped over his own feet in his race to get to the kitchen. He might have spent a little too long deep breathing in front of the open fridge door, because when he came back, the living room was empty.

 

And now here he is - standing in front of the two boys with his too-hot face and his pounding pulse and his vibrating knee-caps.

“So ….” Jamie says then, his velvety voice making Niall’s eyelids flicker open. Jamie’s raising one eyebrow at Niall, his facial expression still unreadable, but he sounds a little uncertain when he speaks again, “you know the hall pass thing? In a marriage?”

“Huh?” Niall’s not capable of articulation. Speaking surely isn’t expected right now though? Not while they’re both right there, on his bed, half-naked and staring at him with an unsettling hunger in their eyes.

“One permission slip?” Jamie stands and takes one step forward. Niall takes a shaky breath. “One, no consequences, fuck. Just once. All agreed and signed off on. You heard of that?”

Niall’s tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth. When he tries to speak he hears it dislodge with a thick, tacky sound. It sounds so vulgar he blushes even more. He’s got goosebumps standing straight up on his skin ever since Jamie said the word fuck.

Jamie’s hand is drifting down that long, ripped torso of his, and is lingering over the top button of his jeans.

“So,” he continues. Niall reluctantly drags his eyes back up to look at Jamie’s face, at the gleam in his eyes. “I checked with Amelia. Got the OK. This is mine …”

“Uhhh…” a sudden wave of dizziness sweeps over Niall, and he struggles to make sense of this. “Uh … you mean … like … Shawn?”

The boys both honk a laugh, Shawn dipping his head to bump it into Jamie’s hip.

“No, not Shawn, exactly” Jamie says. Then he glances back down at him, “Sorry, love, you don’t mind, do you?”

“Nuh-uh,” Shawn smiles up at him, “I don’t mind.”

Such a polite Canadian.

“At least, not as long as no one minds me hanging out too.”

Jamie turns again and catches Shawn’s face in his hand, tweaks his chin, grins down at him. “Don’t mind at all… Don’t think Niall would either …”

Niall hears his breath leave his lungs in a whimper.

Jamie’s fingers are lingering along Shawn’s jaw. He tilts Shawn’s face up, presses his thumb along Shawn’s soft lips. Niall watches as Shawn’s tongue slides over the pad, like he’s trying to feel its print, and he then closes his lips around it and sucks, cheeks hollowing. His eyelids flicker and he moves his head so he’s bringing Jamie’s thumb in and out of his mouth, spit-shiny skin disappearing into the pink of his mouth, like he’s … it’s like he’s …

When Niall whimpers again, they both look over at him, two pairs of shining eyes.

“So,” Jamie takes a step towards him. There a soft pop when he pulls his thumb from Shawn’s lips. “This tying up men thing …”

Niall’s eyes drop to the belt that’s still dangling from Jamie’s other hand. It looks worn, the leather soft and pliable. He swallows and concentrates very hard on keeping his weakening knees from giving out completely.

Jamie’s walked right up close to him now, standing at his side, not touching him, not yet. Niall can feel the heat from his body against his arm. He swallows again and turns to look up into Jamie’s grey eyes.

Jamie’s reaching up and he’s touching Niall’s face, he can feel the wetness from Shawn’s mouth slide over his bottom lip.

“Oh shit …” is all he can manage to breath.

Jamie looks hesitant suddenly. He glances down at his leather wrapped fist and then up again at Niall’s face. 

“Is this … I’ve never really …” he trails off, a worried frown appearing on his brow, “Maybe this isn’t … ergh …”

“It’s fine!” Niall says. Sort of shouts, actually.

He rips his shirt off, drags his trousers and pants down his legs altogether, stumbles around a bit as he kicks them free of his ankles. He tugs his socks off then and straightens, slightly out of breath and he knows from the heat of his skin that he’s gone red all over.

“It’s fine,” he’s panting. Niall’s fumbling about has moved him into middle of the room now, equidistant between them. 

Jamie’s face is finally showing some feeling - an expression of amused surprise - as Niall straightens up and turns to face him. That all did happen quite quickly, he realises. He thinks he hears some kind of noise from Shawn behind him on the bed. But suddenly Jamie’s hand is flat on Niall’s chest and he’s taking a step forward, pushing Niall back at the same time, and they’re pacing backwards towards the bed. Jamie’s gotten serious looking again, his face close to Niall’s, his mouth a few agonising millimetres away from Niall’s as they cross the floor together.

When Niall feels the back of his knees hit the bed, Jamie presses a shove into Niall’s chest and he bounces down onto the mattress. He flays a hand out to steady himself and finds himself clutching Shawn’s thigh.

“Hi!” Shawn smiles brightly at him, shifting to sit a little closer. He puts a hand on the small of Niall’s back, rubs small circles. 

“Hi Shawn,” Niall responds weakly.

And then he feels Jamie’s fingers raking through his hair, just as Shawn’s are trailing up his spine, and his own fingers tighten into fists because is this actually happening?! This can’t be actually fucking happening.

Jamie’s got the hair at the top of Niall’s head in a tight grip now and he’s tugging it back so that Niall’s got to look up at him. He’s got that stern, brooding expression on his face again, the one Niall won’t ever admit to spending hours seeking out in Jamie’s photo-shoots. Shawn leans in to suck at the side of Niall’s neck - his mouth soft and hot. And then his teeth nip at Niall’s earlobe, his tongue flicking over his new earring, and Niall’s whole body shudders. 

He buries his fingers into the flesh of Shawn’s thigh - unable to do much more than squeeze and gasp. Shawn must take this as some kind of signal because next, his hand is on Niall’s thickened dick, takes a hold of it in a loose grip, fingers circling to drift along its length in a lazy motion that is completely at odds with everything Niall’s feeling. He bites at his bottom lip as Shawn mouths at his neck again and Niall shuts his eyes tight, moaning deep in the back of his throat.

He gasps when Jamie’s grip on his hair tightens to jerk Niall’s focus back. The ferocity of his stare makes Niall feel like he’s being hollowed out.

He wrenches away his grip on Shawn’s leg and helplessly raises his hands into the air in front of him, offers Jamie his wrists. 

He’s rewarded with a sudden, bright grin before Jamie rearranges his face into the scowl. Niall bites his lip to swallow back his urge to giggle. He likes that Jamie’s an actor. Meanwhile, Jamie is passing the belt to Shawn, nods towards the headboard and tells him “Get that sorted out, love, will ya?”

Niall’s torn then between glancing at Jamie where he’s undoing his jeans and sliding them down his long legs, and up at Shawn shuffling onto his knees and wrapping the belt around Niall’s wrists. He pulls Niall’s arms up over his head and then back until Niall’s forced to collapse flat onto the mattress. Shawn keeps tugging and nudging them both up the bed and then Niall’s gasping again as his arms are wrenched out straight, and there’s a stretch right down along his whole body, as Shawn ties him to the rails of the headboard.

Niall’s breath is coming hard and fast and he’s making these little whining noises with each pant but he can’t help it. 

Shawn presses the end of the leather strap into Niall’s hand and he grips it and tugs, testing the tension of the bond around his wrists. He moans again and writhes involuntarily when he feels the constraint. He’s tied. Shit, shit, shit.

Two tight fists wrap around his ankles then as Jamie pulls him, helplessly, down the mattress, the stretch of his arms aching even more now. This is … he’s feeling so powerless and exposed - his hard dick wobbling against his stomach as he writhes against drag of Jamie’s hands.

“Well then,” he hears Jamie say. “Now we’ve got you tied up, what are we going to do with you?”

Niall’s got some thoughts on that. But his breath is still coming in shuddering little shallow gasps so he’s not even going to try to speak. 

He manages to keep his eyes half-open. Enough to see the way Jamie’s standing, staring at him in a considering kind of way. He’s naked now too. His hand moving lazily over his own dick, his tight stomach muscles flexing. Niall licks his lips as he watches. Beside him on the bed, Shawn’s wriggled out of his pants now too, has also got his hand lightly around himself, pressing his lips together tight. Niall shivers with impatience. It seems sort of a waste if everyone’s going to be so polite about all this.

Niall thrashes slightly, kicks a leg out wide to one side. 

If anyone gets the hint they don’t make it obvious. Jamie and Shawn seem to be in some kind of silent communication right now, looking at each other with an intense focus. Niall whimpers and thrashes again. And then they move, both of them. They crawl over him like prowling panthers and Niall gasps and shuts his eyes and bites on his lip and feels their hands wandering over him, exploring, touching, tugging, pinching, caressing …

Ireland beat the All Black’s today. The country’s gone mad in celebration, apparently. Niall’s phone has been lighting up with excited notifications all day. But the triumphant celebrations of 4.8 million people together couldn’t possibly put a match to the heady intensity of what Niall’s feeling right now.

 

After what feels like hours of being worked over by their hands, Shawn is straddling Niall, lowering himself slowly onto Niall’s dick, his mouth dropping open as he sinks. He’s so fucking beautiful - a high flush over his cheeks, bitten lips all reddened and shiny, a bright gleam showing under his lowered eyelids. Niall’s not sure when he learned to do this. It’s not something they’ve ever done before. But then, it’s a couple of years they’ve known each other now. Shawn’s not a teenager any more. It’s been a while since Shawn first figured out how Niall could settle his nerves for him. Since they first started helping Shawn figure out what it is he likes. They’ve kept returning to figuring it out, every few months or so, Shawn a little more confident each time, wanting something new each time.

He moves his body over Niall, slow at first, a gentle circling of his hips. Then, as a gleam of sweat breaks out over his skin, he builds up speed, and he bounces down hard. Niall’s face is burning up at the sensation of being swallowed into the heat of Shawn’s tight ass and he’s exhaling helpless grunts with each jerk of his body.

Shawn’s face crumples up into frowning effort, as his pace picks up. His hands are splayed over Niall’s chest as he leverages himself with more intensity. Fuck. Niall can barely breathe. 

“Sha-” Niall tries to speak but can’t manage it. Instead, he moans as Shawn’s fingers dig into the meat of Niall’s chest, scratching into his dark hair and he bounces down, over and over, faster and faster. He’s trying so hard. He always tries so hard. Niall feels the heat intensifying low in his belly. No. Not yet. He doesn’t want come this fast. But then Jamie’s there. He’s behind Shawn. Niall exhales as sees his hands come to grip around Shawn’s hips.

“Slow. Slower…” Jamie murmurs. “It’s OK, it’s OK.”

Shawn’s shaking but he yields to the guidance of Jamie’s hands on his hips. Niall watches as Jamie’s long fingers press into the Shawn’s creamy skin, slowing his movements down, rocking him instead into a deliberate gyration. Shawn’s moaning as Jamie clasps the back of his neck with one hand, the other staying on his hip, and he rocks him forward, guides him into a slow slide back down over Niall’s dick. It’s exquisite, excruciating, glorious and awful all at once.

“Oh god…” Niall’s not sure if it’s him or Shawn who yells. He just feels his head is thrashing over and back on the mattress until he manages to get his teeth into his own bicep, and he bites hard, the pain not so much a release as a new pathway. A new option for focus.

“You need something in that mouth then, huh?” 

Niall cracks his eyes open again and sees their dark eyes staring at him. Jamie’s holding Shawn still, his hands massaging his shoulders. Shawn’s whole body is slicked with sweat, he’s breathless and shaking but he’s just staring at Niall beneath him, not moving. 

Niall eases his teeth off his own skin and licks his lips.

“OK, yeah, please,” he croaks out, and then Jamie is crawling from behind Shawn, has to stand on the mattress for a second to settle himself over Niall’s chest. He shuffles up and forward, his knees pressed under Niall’s armpits, and then he’s got his thick, flushed dick in his fist and is tapping it onto Niall’s parted lips.

Niall licks out, tastes the wet saltiness and then Jamie’s fingers are in his hair again and suddenly his mouth is filled as Jamie slides in. He’s thick and musky against Niall’s tongue. And then he’s pushing in deeper and Niall wriggles his head back to try to get the angle right, to try to open his throat and take it. 

He looks up and nearly comes right then, because Jamie’s just staring at him, just holding Niall’s head in his big hands and staring down at him. Then Jamie’s sliding back out again against the tight circle of Niall’s lips.

“You OK?” he whispers down to Niall, his thumb drawing a line down Niall’s cheek.

And Niall manages to huff out a short “yeah” and then he laps at empty air, trying to swallow him in again. He squeezes his eyes shut for a second because he’s trying to forget that Jamie asked him that. It was better when Jamie was being all quiet and masterful, when he pushed him, when he moved Shawn around so he couldn’t come yet. He likes their two tall, strong bodies pressing down on his, the weight of them on him. 

“Fucking come on,” Niall pants, frustration almost overwhelming him. He feels his eyes getting hot and pulls against his leather binding. His arms hurt a bit. It’s good. He keeps his eyes shut in case Jamie’s still watching him.

Shawn moves then. Niall feels his hands on his thighs - he must be leaning backwards, changing the angle. The shift heightens the heat building in Niall’s gut and he whimpers.

“You want this?” Jamie’s leaning forward over him, “You want to taste this some more?”

His voice is rougher again. Niall shivers at his tone. That’s it. That’s fucking it.

“Please,” Niall finds himself saying, opening his eyes to see at the underside of Jamie’s dick over his head - the thick veins and the scarlet flesh of his balls. “Yeah, please … I want it …”

Jamie takes his dick in his fist and rails it into Niall’s mouth faster than he expected, and he gags and coughs around it, until Jamie backs off enough for him to work this. He gets it right next thrust, sucks and moves his head up to let Jamie fill his throat for a second or two before pulling back a bit to breathe and work it some more.

He’s doing good. Niall knows it. He knows he can do this well. Jamie’s leaning up over him, his hands either side of where Niall’s are tied to the headboard.

Behind Jamie, Shawn’s moving faster on him, building up pace again. He’s grunting loudly with each bounce, and Jamie’s moaning now too. Niall sees Shawn’s hands are now gripping onto Jamie’s waist. He’s got such big broad hands. The two of them are so tall, such tall, strong men, lean and muscular, and they’re both rocking over him, while Niall lies back barely able to move, helpless under them. A rush of hot goosebumps race over the surface of Niall’s skin and he feels the heat building again inside him. But he can’t do anything about it. He’s just lying there being used by them … he feels so small under them … and fuck … Shawn’s ass flexes around him and Jamie’s hot inside his mouth, and it swamps him suddenly, the intensity of sensations. In a rush, he comes, suddenly, opening his mouth to yell - Jamie slipping free as Niall’s head flings back and his whole body thrashes under them.

He’s gasping, his voice catching in high whimpers as the waves of his orgasm shudder through his body. 

He feels them both slide off of him, feels the mattress dip as they move away. 

When he opens his eyes he finds Shawn on his side beside Niall, propped on an elbow, staring hard, with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Niall twists his wrists inside their circle of leather and Shawn’s eyes follow the movement, his fist is moving fast between his legs. And he’s close to Niall, so close that when he comes, Niall feels the hot spurt against his hip and the damp heat of his breath as pants his release against Niall’s skin.

Niall’s blinking slowly at Shawn, watching the way his face is changing with each pulse of orgasm. He’s so gorgeous. He grunts a final uh! and his frown melts and Niall could kiss him, kiss that open mouth, those red, full lips. He’s so beautiful. Niall lifts his head to lean over to him but suddenly, fingers are pressing in hard and deep against Niall’s jaw and his face is turned away to focus on where Jamie is peering down at him.

“I didn’t say you could come, Niall. You’re going to have to make amends for that.”

And OK. Yeah. There’s game they’re playing. Niall almost forgot the rules, what he wants. What does he want? Jamie will let him know, maybe.

Ignoring Niall’s whimper Jamie rolls him over onto his front. His arms cross over now as he’s moved face down on the bed. His biceps throb in relief at the new position, his shoulder muscles just ache in a different way. Niall hears the rip of a condom wrapper, the snick of the lube bottle opening and shutting, and before his sex-dulled mind works out what’s going to happen next, there’s a wet sensation against his ass. Jamie circles his ring for just a few moments before pushing inside. He moves fast. Two fingers follow one, scissoring Niall open while he thrashes against the sensation. Niall’s being louder than ever now, can’t help it, yelping and moaning into the mattress under his face, until Jamie finally shuffles over him, presses his hand onto the back of Niall’s neck as he presses his dick inside. 

Niall goes blind for a second. There’s nothing but the searing stretch of it, the dull pressure of Jamie’s hand pressing onto the back of his neck, the wrench of his lungs as he struggles for the next breath.

Then Jamie sinks in deeper. Niall spreads his legs wide and arches and Jamie hits the spot on his first thrust, like a legend. This what he wants. Everything whites out and there’s nothing but the intensity of radiating pleasure, a wave of it rushing through every fibre of Niall’s body and he just feels himself yield. He’s half-hard again, over-sensitive and shuddering as his dick drags over the fabric of his cotton sheets. But his whole body gives up, gives itself up to Jamie, and he’s lax and loose and Jamie slams into him over and over, hitting that spot each time and in the distance Niall hears the sound of his own voice giving way to sensation. Jamie thrusts again and again until he’s moaning too and then he jerks and Niall can feel the heat of him coming inside him. 

Jamie groans and collapses onto the length of Niall’s back. He can feel the scratch of Jamie’s beard against his skin, wetness from his open mouth rolling over Niall’s shoulder. Niall can’t help moaning a little. It feels so good - the heaviness of Jamie’s body on top of his, the press of his soft lips against his skin. It feels just as good as anything else they’ve just done. Maybe even better.

When he pulls out, Niall feels the burn, his asshole has a pulse of its own now. Pain throbs in his shoulders, his throat feels raw and dry. But it’s so good. It’s all so good. He can’t believe this even happened.

 

Niall lets go of the leather strap and wriggles his hands free. He wasn’t ever really tied up, he allows himself to admit to himself now. Shawn had wrapped the leather around and then pressed the loose ends against Niall’s palms. He’d just been holding on tight the whole time, holding himself in place for them. Pretending.

There’s still a sharp ache around his shoulders and elbows when he brings his arms down though. That’s real. The cooling sweat on his limbs. The silence in the room.

Niall rolls over onto his back and sees Jamie at the foot of the bed, slipping back into his jeans. 

Shawn shuffled to sit upright too. He’s still beside Niall and he’s smiling down at him. He pats the side of Niall’s face, gently.

“OK there?”

Niall manages a weak chuckle.

“Be able to tell you in a minute, probably,” he croaks back at Shawn.

“That was a bit …” Shawn eyebrows raise. He’s whispering. Niall’s not sure why. Jamie’s still right there, close enough to hear. He’s sitting now, bending down to put on his socks. He hasn’t spoken. “… crazy.”

Niall chuckles again.

“Did you love it though? Going crazy?” Niall manages to sit up, but holy shit everything hurts. He tries to clear his dry throat. “Did we take all your inhibitions? Tear up your reputation?”

Shawn’s nodding, laughing. “Manipulated my decisions? Definitely.”

“Hey if anyone got manipulated …” Niall trails off when he sees Jamie freeze.

Shawn follows his eyes, and then frowns. He summons a smile though and turns to back to Niall. “I’ll just, take a quick shower? Is that OK?” He glances at Jamie’s back again, worry crossing his face, before he smiles and pats at Niall’s leg and walks off to the en-suite bathroom.

“Next time,” he says over his shoulder, “Would you mind if I tried out getting tied up, please?”

Niall laughs loud as Shawn shoots a devilish grin before disappearing through the door. Such a polite Canadian.

 

Niall hears the shower clicking on as Jamie stands and reaches onto the floor for his shirt. Niall can’t help staring at the rippling of lean muscle of his back as he slips it over his head.

Niall’s still starkly naked it suddenly occurs to him, all spread out over the mattress. He shifts a bit, manages to shuffle down to put his feet on the floor and roll up into a sitting position. He rubs at his eyes and jerks them open again when he feels a soft whisper of fabric against his skin.

Jamie’s tossed him his clothes from the floor.

Niall glances up at him. His expression is hard to read - he’s flickering his gaze from the floor to Niall and then back again, a squint to his eyes, like he’s concentrating very hard on trying to figure something out. He scratches at the back of his head, leaving his hair all rumpled and sticking out. He glances at Niall again, this time he looks almost sheepish.

Niall holds the belt out to Jamie, who blushes and takes it, slots it back into the loops of his jeans, carefully slipping it closed.

“OK?” Niall croaks out. Something is twisting around in his guts. It feels weird to ask that. Jamie hasn’t asked him and he’s the one who … He feels like … He feels like he needs a hug or something embarrassing like that. Fuck. No one kissed him, actually, for the whole thing. But that wasn’t the game they were playing, was it? He never asked Jamie to kiss him. He asked Jamie to tie him up. That’s what he wanted. He wanted that so badly.

“Yeah, but I should probably head on,” Jamie says eventually. He manages to sound apologetic. He shoots a quick smile at Niall.

‘Course he should. He’s got a wife and two gorgeous kids, another one on the way. He shouldn’t have done this, hall pass or not. Niall shouldn’t have let him. Niall shouldn’t have done this. When is he going to learn that fucking your friends means fucking up your friendships? He should have learned by now. He wrote a whole album about this very thing.

“Sure, grand so.” Niall tells him. He’s shoving his clothes back on, unable to face walking naked across the room in front of Jamie to get fresh ones from the wardrobe. Niall slips his t-shirt over his head and when his head pops through Jamie reaches down to him, scratches at his head like he’s a pet dog or something.

Niall laughs.

“Well, that’s one to cross off the bucket list!” Niall says, glancing up at Jamie again. He feels himself frown when Jamie just raises his eyebrows and looks down at the floor.

“Jamie,” he tries again, “we’re alright, yeah? Like. This was just a bit of craic? Bit mad, like, but …”

“Bit mad, yeah,” Jamie nods at the floor, “It’s just .. I’m not sure that I … that we ...” Jamie looks at him hard, peers right into him, and suddenly the serial-killer casting makes sense. Niall feels himself quail. He feels like he might just throw himself at Jamie’s feet and ask him again … Ask him to take him, to _have_ him, to keep him this time.

“You take care Niall,” he says then. He cups Niall’s face gently. “You and Shawn, too. You guys take care of yourselves.”

Niall manages to laugh, as if what Jamie said funny somehow.

Jamie leaves and Niall’s alone apart from the drone of the shower from the next room. He looks down at his hands, flexes them, feeling the ache from how tightly he had been holding onto the belt. He wonders, just for a second, what would have happened if he had let go and reached out for someone instead.


End file.
